


Always

by Nayaa



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Cuddle, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In Love, Loving Tharn, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Tharn Thara Kirigun, Rescue, fight, kiss, past sexual abuse/ not explicit, sad type
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nayaa/pseuds/Nayaa
Summary: Type receives a phone call that brings back memories he does not want to remember but Tharn is there to comfort him. Always.ON HOLD INDEFINITELYDo not re-upload or translate to any other languages. Thank you.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong, Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 34
Kudos: 202





	1. The Phone Call

When the world unloved you in such a cruel way, leaving you broken and bruised, you would think love is something that’s not meant for you. 

When Type was 12, he saw the other side of the world that was dark and ugly. It had a musty smell, dead rats and broken walls. His small body was bounded and bloody. He was voiceless scream and glassy eyes.  _Flower plucked too soon._

Despite the countless holes in the wall, even light refused to break through. Consumed by the darkness, he grew up little to early yet found himself trapped within a child that never got the chance to grow up properly. 

The world transformed itself in his eyes. From cotton candies, swimming in the sea, sweaty grass-stain jersey and bruise knees, his world now became grisly and cold. But he had rescued the football, pulled it out of that grim world. It was his only solace, even if it had unknowingly colored his world black. 

A monster, with a face of a man, stole his sleep and plagued his dreams. Even in his sleep, the world refuse to let him breathe. 

It took time and countless therapies but he learned to sleep without dreams. 

Despite the love of his parents, Type felt that love was something that never  _ wanted _ him. 

He lived his life with fire burning in his veins. Only those with enough strength somehow penetrated the fortress he created to hide away. 

Techno had climbed over and brought his friends. Type couldn’t help but laugh at the silly man. He would never tell him how much he admired his courage and loyalty. His head was already too big for that small body. 

But  _ Tharn _ had destroy the wall all together. He showed Type the love he deserved all along. World that was repulsive and cruel, Tharn unlocked the doors to cotton candies and warm salty sea. 

Type thought he had thrown away the keys, but Tharn somehow managed to find them all. Gradually, the world became little less grim and little more softer. With Tharn’s hand in his, Type thought maybe he could finally accept that he was  worthy to be loved. 

World might have broken him in his youth but maybe with Tharn by his side, he could finally let the light in through those cracks. 

But world had a cruel way of slamming doors when the light was finally shimmering through. When he thought that he was finally moving on, letting go of the past and toward a future that wasn’t covered in dark, he felt his world _tilted_ with a single phone call. 

His father’s voice was soft, fear evident as he read the letter he had received in Type’s name “....welcome to call us anytime if you need our assistance......therapies are covered by....we are here for you....” 

But Type wasn’t really listening, not after the first sentence his father had uttered. That one line that went over and over in his head.

“ _He is out Type”_

He can’t be. No, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him. No. _No_.  _** No ** _ . 

His brain kept denying, trying to come up with all sorts of things to make it false, to make this phone call a dream. 

But the sound of the TV in front of him, thetraffic below, the pattering of rain on the window and Tharn’s low humming from the kitchen was all too real. 

“Type, are you listening to me?”

“Type,  _ Type _ ,  _** TYPE ** _ ,” 

“Yes, yes I am here” His father shout had brought him back. 

“Look son, there is no easy way to deal with this. Nothing we can do. We are always here for you, you know that” 

“I know..” came a soft reply. 

“Keeping living your life my boy, don’t let this stop you, you understand. You have been so brave and strong” 

“I’ll be okey dad, it was a l-long time ago.....I-l am not alone anymore...” 

“No, no you were _never_ _alone_ my boy, never alone” 

After saying that he’ll mail the Victim Protection service letter to him, his dad had said bye. 

Type was still having hard time processing the information. He knew he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was bigger, stronger. He could protect himself, fight for himself. Yet, somehow knowing that man was out there, a monster wearing a human skin, Type felt like a Twelve year old again. Trapped in that musty, abandoned building where even the light refuse to enter. 

Tharn found him like that, his knees on his chest, shaking with fear he thought had vanished long ago. 

“Type,  Type what’s wrong?” Tharn sat down beside him on the couch, taking his face between his hands. 

“Look at me baby, tell me what’s wrong” 

Glassy eyes stare back at Tharn, full of fear. Something shattered inside Tharn, seeing the love of his life so broken. Pulling Type to his lap, resting his head on his chest, Tharn ran his finger up and down his back, trying to sooth him. 

“Take your time, I am here, I am _always_ here” Tharn whispered. 

He knew the look on Type’s eyes. He had seen it so many times when the man in his arms had woke up screaming and crying from nightmares. Nightmares of world that was dark and cold.  _ Inhuman _ to twelve year old. 

“Take your time, baby” he whispered. 

Type didn’t cry, he refuse to waste his tears on a monster. Instead he focused on Tharn, his heartbeats as he rested his head on his chest, focused on his scent that always overpower the musty smell, on his hands that formed a protective circle on him,  _ Tharn _ . 

Slowly, he learned to breathe again. 

“Dad called,  _ He’s _ _out_ ” Tharn went still. 

“To be honest, i don’t even remember his face anymore, he is barley a man in my nightmares. All I see is a silhouette” 

“He doesn’t  deserve to be _remembered_ ” Tharn hand was back to running soothing circles on Type’s back. 

“Type,” Tharn lifts Type’s face up so their eyes met. “I am here,  always . You don’t need to remember anyone but  _ me _ ” 

“Such a sap” Type laughs softly, as he leans up to kiss him. 

" _I know _ , idiot” Their lips ghosting against each other as they smile into another kiss.


	2. The War Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a war going inside them and distance is slowly increasing.

It’s hard to forget something when life constantly reminds you of things you’ve left behind. When the old wound is broken open, the past slips in from those cracks. First, it was the nightmares of the dark room and silhouette of the monster disguised as human. Then even the shadows became frightening in daylight. Paranoia crept into that already fragile heart and made a home.

Type is anything but delicate, yet he feels as if he’ll break if anyone touches him even a little. His body unconsciously flinches even when it’s Tharn’s hands that caress him. He does not mean to, and he sees it in Tharn’s eyes how painful it is. To be repulsive of your own lover’s touch, he knows it’s breaking Tharn a little inside too.

But Type isn’t repulsive of his warmth, in fact he wants Tharn to hold him, cuddle him, hide him away from the rest of the world. He wants to lay in his arms and let the seasons pass by. Away from places light does not touch. However, Type has never been a man of expression, of affection. For too long, he has spent his life hiding away, fighting monster that invaded his dreams, that expressing emotions is foreign to him.

He does not know how to tell Tharn to hold him, to love him. He does not know how to express his own love for the man that sings him to sleep whenever Type trembles in his dreams. He had always fought the world with his action, pushing them away, keeping his distance, his eyebrows crease together in defense, as if daring them to approach.

He can feel the distance widening with Tharn and it was his own doing. Despite his heart demanding him to scream _I love yous_ to the man who has only ever loved him with all of his heart, Type’s mind keeps forcing him away. Bringing up memories he had buried in catacombs of his mind.

This is breaking him apart, the arms that always pulls him close when night slips in is hesitant beside him now, incase it triggers unwanted touch.

It’s breaking Tharn apart too. To be not able to hold and comfort one person that means the world to him without reminding him of cold night and unwelcome touch. Despite being together, loneliness is creeping in, nights has become a burden. Their conversations are bits and pieces of happiness that was once there before the world _tilted_.

Tharn can’t do this anymore. Days are unbearable and awkward, things left unsaid. When did their silence became so _uncomfortable_? Nights are too cold without Type in his arms, stoles kisses in dead of nights. He does not know how long they can keep this up before they both crumble.

Physical touch and affection has always been a big part of their relationship. Even though, it was almost always Tharn that initiated it, Type always welcomed it, ready for more. It was the way they communicated. With single touch, they told each other stories and _I love yous_ without uttering a single word.

Type knows Tharn won’t approach him first, he won’t touch him first, not this time. He loves him too much to trap him in memories of that night. This time, Type needs to take that step.

He had told his dad he would be okey. That he wasn’t _alone_ anymore. _He isn’t_. The man who would die for him without a question was just arm length away. All he needed to do was extend his hand and take Tharn’s in his.

Tharn and Type sat there, a clear space between them, TV playing some action film neither of them were paying attention to, yet their eyes were glued to the screen.

When Type stole a glance at the man next him, he knew. Both of them were fighting a war inside their mind. Type sat there for a long time, unmoving, as battles raged on inside him. He was vaguely aware of Tharn getting up and coming back to sit beside him. The space between them never decreasing.

All his life, Type had lived inside of a wall he had built, scared of the world outside until Tharn took his hands and promised him to never let go. _He wasn’t alone, not anymore, never anymore._ This war, whatever it was, they needed each other to win. He needed him as much as the man beside him did.

He felt something click inside of him, as if he had finally found a piece that fitted in a blank space that his mind had created. _Tharn_. It will _always_ be him.

He stood up and stretched his limbs. Slowly he turned to Tharn who was already staring at him. For a moment, they just looked at each other, drinking each other in. It was as if two lovers were seeing each other for the first time in a long time. Love evident in each other’s eyes. Then Type smiled, as if saying ‘ _I am home’_.

In a flash, Tharn had Type in his arms, hugging him. Holding each other as if they were starved of each other’s touch. In a way, _they were_. Tharn pulled them back on the couch without letting go of the other man.

Neither of them knew when they had started crying but tears were streaming down their face. Type pulled his face back and took Tharns’ in between his, touching their forehead together.

“I am sorry it took me so long, but I am here now” He reassured his lover.

“I missed you” Tharn’s voice was hoarse. Type kissed him then. He wasn’t a man of words, action was always his way. He had pushed the world away once with it, now he pulled Tharn into his embrace, erasing the distance his fear had created ever since that _phone call_. Finally, he let him back in. 

They pulled back, breathless.

“I’ll be okay, whatever happens we’ll do it _together_ , I won’t let go of your hand” Type promised.

“I’ll always hold it tight” Tharn would. Type had come to him on his own and that’s all that mattered. He would protect him with everything he had.

_I’ll kill him first before I let him touch you again._

Tharn vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan was to wait for me to write the whole thing and publish it but god i am so Impatient lol.  
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. If you like it, don't forget to leave kudos hehhe. 
> 
> I know we just had live with MewGulf but I already miss my boys ;(!!


	3. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Type is scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of it. I would love to read your reviews.

When you start believing that maybe happiness is something you deserve too, a flame lits up within you. As long as you hold on to that belief, nothing could demolish that happiness. Faith is _powerful_ , even more so if it’s ignited by _you_.

So, Type does his best to move on, doing whatever he can to get back to the _normalcy_ of what he had with Tharn before. Slowly, they do but neither could deny the uneasiness that sweeps in at times, unannounced. Sometimes, it felt like the world was standing still, _waiting_. For what, neither wanted to voice it.

Nightmares became dreams again under Tharn’s embrace and smile graced his face whenever they were together. Finally, it started to feel like everything was okay with the world again.

But there were times, when he would be alone and wind would blow, shaking his heart. Tharn taught him to close his eyes to that past and listen to the breeze instead, to his heartbeats, to the world outside, away from the burial ground of his mind, of dimly lit room and musty smell.

It took lot of practices and lot of patient. Those unannounced attacks felt like a slimy hand choking him, cutting off his lifeline. But Tharn was there the first time it happened. Type does not remember how but when he came back to his own mindspace, Tharn had somehow given him his air back. In dark of night and sometime at dawn of the morning, Type found himself trying to breathe _again_. Tharn was _always_ there, _holding him_ , until his silent trembles would subside. 

Just like that, days passes by and then the letter arrives, mailed by his father as promised, along with those memories all over again. But Type refuses to surrender to it again.

The content of the letter was just as his dad had read to him, informing him of _His_ release, therapy sessions if required, any assistance he might need, and if he wanted to request a _picture_ of _Him_ , _just in case_.

Type declined; he did not want to put a face on that monster. Giving him a face of a man meant acknowledging that it was a person that did something so despicable to him. That any person out there was capable of such act if they wanted to. How could Type ever breathe again if every person he looks at begins to wear _his_ face.

However, Tharn was restless. Even though he wanted to respect Type’s wishes, the picture won’t inflict the same pain on him as it would be on Type. If he knew what that man looked like, he could keep Type safe if that monster ever ventured into Bangkok. 

But Type had said no, and he didn’t want to break that trust with him. Their relationship wasn’t an easy one despite the unconditional love they felt for each other. Especially right now, they were walking on thin ice with everything going on.

He watched as Type stared at the letter on the table, fidgeting on his seat. Weight on his mind.

The fleeting glances that Types have been stealing toward him didn’t go unnoticed by Tharn but he wasn’t going to push him. Type will come to him when he is ready, he _always_ does.

However, what was eating at Type currently wasn’t the letter or the monster that visited him too often nowadays. It was the uneasiness he had seen in Tharn’s face, the burden of his past, his weight on Tharn’s shoulder. Type knew Tharn was also suffering along side him, carrying his burden in half. How he deserved this man, he does not know. Sometimes, he feels as if he’s keeping Tharn from life that’s more deserving of him, one where he does not need to fight a war that wasn’t his. One where he is happy without him.

Type knows that this is something that will never go away. Somethings can't be fixed once they are broken. It will always be there, lurking in the back of his mind, ready to strike if there is an opening.

For that solo reason, he knows he needs to talk to Tharn. They need to have this conversation. As much as it breaks Type's heart, he'll keep the door open for Tharn. Let him choose whether he wants to stay or leave. Because Type knows his broken soul will never heal completely. But if Tharn decides he is worth it, Type is ready to do what he can to keep him. To lessen the burden, he feels he is putting on love of his life.

It's time he let Tharn decide.

"I can't keep doing this to you" is the first sentence Type utters.

They both are sitting on their bed, facing each other on Type's request.

"Tharn we need to talk" Type had said, pulling him to bed, shoulder hunch down, as if in surrender. Tharn has an overwhelming feeling to pull him on his lap and hug him tight but he knows this isn't the moment.

"Do what baby?" There is softness to his tone as he pulls Type's hand to his, gently messaging it.

"All this Tharn, you don't deserve it. It's my cross to bear and yet i am putting it on yo-"

"Type stop, we talked about th—"

"I know, I know but hear me out okay. I want you to know I see what you do. I know I am not good with words and expressing my thoughts but I..I want you to know.." He whispers the last few words, unable to look at Tharn.

"Type, I _always_ know baby. Your eyes speak everything your words fails to convey"

"Will you let me talk, you stupid sap, let me say this just once." He growls but there is no real fierceness to it.

"Okay, oka—"

"You're always going on about verbal communication and having talks and blah blah blah and when I do want to talk, you keep interrupting"

Type grumbles and Tharn can't help but laugh at the man in front of him. He can't understand how this hotheaded fire ball turns into such a baby inside his arms. Such contradiction to his crease eyebrows and ‘ _don't approach me unless you want to fight’_ appearance, all for a show. He is just a fluff ball inside.

Even Techno had been surprised by how different he acts when Tharn is next to him. It definitely took some getting use to, seeing his ears and cheek color itself crimson with his lover's every touch.

Tharn knew that Type had no idea just how beautiful he is and no matter how many times he told him, Type never believes him. Which was fine with Tharn, since he plans to spend his whole life telling him that.

"Okay baby, you have my undivided, uninterrupted attention" Type grunts at that but doesn't say anything for a long time.

Tharn just holds his hand and lets him take his time. He knows his man need time to get his thoughts together. He _always_ knows.

A sign escapes Type's lips.

"Tharn....don't say anything until I finish. If you do, I won't be able to say everything. Please."

Tharn stays quiet, squeezing Type's hand in agreement. Type does not look at him but he understands.

"I...I know it's hard being with me. I know I am not as volatile as I use to be but I am still hot temper and sometime still lash out at you. I am trying to be better and you make me want to be better. In fact. You have made me so much better than I was. Given me so much, I don't even know if I deserve it, deserve you"

Tharn squeezes Type's hand once more at the last sentence, as if to tell him he disagrees but otherwise stays quiet.

"I-i don't have much to give you, i don't even know what to give you beside loving you. I am broken Tharn and....I know these last few weeks have been a nightmare to you too. You have your own life and I-I....I can't keep doing this to you, burdening you with this, you aren't responsible for my pain, yet I keep you awake so many times with these unwanted dreams. I just want you to know that you..you have a choice. You don't have to do all this"

Type looks up at Tharn then "I won't be mad; I won't stop you if you want to leave"

Tharn starts to cry then, clutching Type's hand. "You're trying to break up with me?" Pain evident in his eyes.

"WHA— _no_ , _no_ , didn't you listen to what I just said"

"I did, you just said you won't fight for me"

"Of everything I have said, that's what you heard" Type signs.

"I….I am giving you a choice to walk away, because I know it's not easy to be with me. I feel as if i am burdening you everyday….I just want you to know you have a choice" Type whispers.

"How could you say that so easily. I know it's not easy, but relationships are never easy. It only last when each party works together to make it work. I know you have your scar Type and I know it's something that won't just go away, and maybe it never will. But I want to be here, soothing the scars when it aches because _I love you._ I have loved you the moment I saw you walk through that dorm door and I didn't even know it. I want to be here. I have _always_ wanted to be here. How could you _think_ otherwise?" Hurt apparent in his voice.

Then it was Type's turn to cry. Tharn pulls him in his arms and holds him tight.

"If you are giving me a choice, then let me choose" Type goes still in his arms.

" _You_ , it will always be you" Type snuggles closer to Tharn, as if he wanted to merge their body into one, so they could never separate.

"I'll be better, _I promise_. I’ll do better _. I love you_ " Type whispers.

"You don't need to do anything but be you baby. I love you because you are you. Don't ever think you are a burden to me. You are a weight that I want to carry for rest of my life, as long as you let me"

"Such a sap" Type hiccups laughs into Tharn.

"Let me show you just how much I _want_ you, how perfect you are for me" His tone lacing with love and desire.

"God you are always so horny" Type laughs while letting his boyfriend pull his shirt off, pushing him down on bed. Their lips seeking each other.

_The afternoon sun burned bright above, but if one looked a little closer, there was storm brewing, waiting to pour. A figure stood outside the massive gate, towering him on the barren plain. Brooding mass of pitiless concrete stretch behind him, housing sins in form of humans.._

_Green that grew alongside that concrete wall whispered life, swaying in the gentle breeze. It reminded him of a boy, a child underneath him._

_He could almost taste him again in the wind, whiff of salty sea and open field._

_A sadistic smile graced his face, thinking of the sound he had made. He knows the child is bigger now but, in his memory, he's still a boy, screaming in mercy._

_I_ _nnocence he had stolen in promise of field full of footballs. A tiny hand that had grasped his in trust. How sweet had that moment been, too easy in twilight, away from prying eyes._

_He wants him again. In room deprived of light and dead rats, full of shadows and vile intentions lurking about. He wants that sun kissed boy where sun won't get to him._

_Where he'll show him again what it feels to be taken without mercy. Punishment for screaming that night and bringing in unwanted guests. For locking him away in cell without escape._

_He wants him. This time he won't stop until he's dead._


	4. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tharn wants to protect Type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update but i been sick these past days and barely had energy to write anything. Thank you for the kudos and comments, they are such a delight to read. If you feel incline, please keep leaving them. 
> 
> Anyways, This chapter is from Tharn's perspective and i wanted to show that Type was mature and as supportive of Tharn as well. It's not a great writing but honestly i still feel bad so.... excuse the errors and bad wording....
> 
> Hope you guys are having a better day then me.

They say that you can’t truly appreciate sweetness until you’ve tested bitterness.

Tharn looks down at the city below, covered in brilliantly vibrant colors of fleeting moments as sun sets below the horizon line. The streetlights gradually coming alive as the day comes to an end. View from up above, city lights illuminates the world now, Tharn watches, transfixed, as if earth has been plated in gold. Silhouette of the city hides its ugly side, up too high to see the detail properly. _Too small to distinguish what is what, the danger of unknown that lurks in shadows._

Looking below from 40 story high, everything looks so small, as if they can all fit in palm of his hand. Tharn likes the world this way, in silhouette of objects and shapes, ignorance is bliss they say. He knows Type prefers it that way. But you can’t _unlearn_ what you have seen all your life, you can’t hide from your own mind. Thoughts are constant companion, from better or _worse_. He sees it in his face, the constant battle, no matter how much Type tries to hide from him, playing it off as just another bad day.

_How do you comfort a man who refuses to admit he is in pain?_ Eventually, they’ll both need to face the truth. The view from above might be gold but _reality_ is full of shadows.

Tharn signs as he turns back to face his desk, the page in front of him full of blank space. It’s been weeks since he’s written a _single_ song that’s worth two cent. There is nothing but worries and agonies plaguing his mind.

_How can anyone expect him to write a love song when love of his life is hanging on a single thread._

Yet, he knows no one will say a word to him. He can take his time, the privilege he has is something not many are fortunate with.

The **Kirigun Entertainment Industry** has been dominating the entertainment business for years and even more so when his brother took over the chairman position. Tharn had declined the president position politely, much to the disappointment of his family. Business wasn’t his forte and he has no plan to spend his life doing something that’ll cause him pain. Life is _too short_ to live just to please other. As surprising as it may sound, Type was the one who had _taught_ him to be his own man.

Aftermath of what happened with Lhong had _scared_ Tharn in a way he never knew before. To realize that he had been the _center_ of hurt that had been inflict on those who he had cared about was too much weight on his already _fragile_ heart. It was already numb from when Type had left him, tear stain still on his face even after his lover had promised him forever. But _forever_ wasn’t Type’s to give, yet Tharn had gobbled it up anyway because he didn’t know how else to feel okay.

He had nightmares of his former lover who had been victim of such tragic fate, and sometime his nightmares created scenarios of him being too late, watching Type lay _lifeless_.

There were times he remembered Type’s struggled with his past, and Tharn couldn’t help but feel as if Tar will never heal. He reached out to him, but it was Type that he saw Tar _lower_ his guard with. They shared a pain Tharn would never understand and somehow it had made him feel even more _guilty_ , watching them battle a past, scars that’ll never _heal_.

Tar had reassured him that it wasn’t his fault and Type had backed him up. Yet the nightmares persisted but Type brought him back each time. Tharn had felt as if his heart had been torn apart, not shattered or crushed. _Ripped_. And he didn’t know how to put it back together. When he found himself fading way, in guilt and in pain, Type found his way into his heart again and slowly but surely, he helped _glue_ it back.

It was the first time Tharn didn’t say a single word and listened as Type spoke for a long time. First time he realized that the man in front of him, that had _promised_ him forever, was here to stay and share his burden.

“You are not okay” Type had said. “It isn’t your fault what passed, all you did was love and someone exploited that love into hurt and pain. You are as much of a _victim_ as any of them. Stop feeling guilty for being not okay. I know the pain Tar feels is something incomparable but yours isn’t _any less_ ” Tharn had wanted to disagree at that point, but Type’s stare told him otherwise.

“What I mean is that… I am not trying to minimize Tar’s pain or anyone’s for that matter by saying it’s okay for you to cry. We all know the prick of pain, but range tends to differ according to individual, but that does not mean yours any less. So please stop doing this to yourself and just cry, breakdown or _anything_. Then we’ll pick up the pieces and put it back _together_ ”

Then Tharn _did_. He broke down. Cried all the hurt and pain he felt he didn’t deserve, and Type held him. The sun set and rose and Type still held on to him.

Tharn knew that Type is man of action, words have never been his way of comforting others but when times are critical, somehow Type always manages to find the right _words_. It always surprises Tharn, words hidden in depth of his lover’s mind. So full of wisdom and kindness, at first it had felt foreign coming from Type’s mouth but the comfort it had brought lifted immense weight from Tharn’s chest.

Tharn had wonder what Type’s life would have been if his world hadn’t been plunged into darkness at such young age. But Tharn would take him anyways he gets.

“There is something else I wanted to tell you… I wanted to say it when that day….when you were tending to the wounds on my face” Type had whispered, when the first morning light had shimmered in, pushing the darkness away.

“mmm” Tharn had mumbled, his face buried in Type’s chest, holding him tight against him, eyes swollen and voice hoarse from crying all night. But his heart was _light_.

“That day when I left….you said you would change yourself to my liking just to make me _stay_.” Tharn looked up and met Type’s eyes but didn’t say anything.

“I _noticed_ that you do it lot…put others before you, _as if_ _your happiness does not matter_.”

“Type~”

“Let me finish, please….” Tharn put his head back on Type’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I know that it makes you happy, seeing the people you love being happy, but I don’t want you like that Tharn. I want to take care of you too, I want you to take care of yourself, put yourself _first_. I want you to be yourself, what’s the point of loving someone, if it’s my reflection I see. I fall in love with you because of who you are and I don’t want you to mold yourself in my shadow because you are worth so much more than that. Your happiness _matters_ , just as much as anyones..” Tharn had cried all over again and Type let him, caressing his hair and running his hand down his back, trying to sooth him.

Despite the love and support of his family when he came out, the world still looked at him in disgust, as if his love was something abnormal. Top of that, everyone he came to love eventually left him, raw and broken. It had made him feel like love wasn’t meant for him. Maybe the world had been right, his _love_ was flawed to begin with. It had made him question things he didn’t want to. So scared was he at being alone and unloved, he had _molded_ himself in their liking just to be _wanted_.

But Type had given him himself back, not as reflection of his lover’s desire and want, but his own man. It took time to figure things out, to put the pieces back together. _To find himself_. Eventually he did and Type still looked at him the same, full of love and adoration, though he’ll never admit it. But Tharn had learn to read his eyes and that was _enough_.

Type supported him and loved him. After they had graduated, Type started working right away but Tharn didn’t know what he wanted to do. But Type hadn’t forced him to choose, but rather let him take his time. He had supported both of them financially, though Tharn still made some money from playing at P’Jeed’s bar. At one point he felt so bad, he was ready to ask his family for help. Type had shut it down instantly, fierceness in his eyes was enough to let Tharn know he didn’t do all this shit for him to just watch Tharn waste his life on things he didn’t want.

Being a double major in Music and literature, he found his passion in writing music. With lot of persuasion from his Family, he had finally agreed to work at their family’s company. As long as it made him happy, Type was wholly behind the idea. Within a year, he had made a name for himself, his songs hitting the top of music chart continuously. But he had no desire for world to know him, so he hid himself behind his pen name, _Mew Suppasit_.

At one point, his family were ready to debut his Band, if that’s what he had wanted. Tharn loved music, he found his solace in it. He would lose himself to it for hours but fame was something that never appealed to him. Surprisingly, none of his band member wanted to debut. They all did it for the love of music, but their true passions were something else. So, they continue to play at P’Jeeds bar, whenever they had time to spare.

Tharn takes a deep breath and looks back at the paper again. _Nothing_. Thorn had asked him to write a song for a group that they were debuting in two month, yet, two week had passed and Tharn doesn’t know where to start. They wanted something romantic, cheerful, full of colors to compliment the new group but Tharn’s world has turned into chaos, depressing and full of shadows. The uneasiness he felt and the need to hide Type away from all the hurt and pain was so _overwhelming_ , he couldn’t think of anything else.

They had both agreed that they’ll forget all about the phone call, the letter, _Him_ , and move on with their life. But Tharn couldn’t help but feel ominous feeling that was consuming him. Even the sunset that painted everything in color felt dark.

He knew he _shouldn’t_ , but he had to know. He had to make sure that Type would be _safe_ , because he knows he won’t be able to survive without him anymore. Tharn opened his desk drawer and pulled out the envelope he had put away. Instead of their home address, he put his office address instead, _requesting_ the picture of monster in Type’s _name_.

He’ll go through depth of hell, destroy anything that stands in his way. No matter what happens, he’ll keep his lover _safe_.

_Thing about evil is that there is too much in this world. They wear faces of innocence and trust, concealed behind a mask as black as a night sky where moon and stars are hidden behind a stormy cloud._

_A man shields his face as droplets of water splashed in resilience. Strong waves rocked the ferry ashore, a man slither his way out of it once the anchor dropped below the ocean floor. He smiles as he looks at the fading light, Twilight, his favorite time of the day._

_He realizes he does not like way the city smells, once his feet lands on the concrete floor. But the boy was here, wearing the salty sea and bambi eyes, and that’s all that mattered. He took out the photograph he had received, along with details of a grown child, but just as pretty._

_It had been too easy, finding him, just across the sea._

_His heart thumped with excitement; a sinister smile played on his face. The passer by paid him no attention, as he took to the shadows, away from streetlights that pave the way._

_He had been starved too long, insatiable was his thirst. It was time to end this, once and for all._


	5. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Type contemplates.

They say time is the greatest medicine for any wounds, but it does not erase the pain of what has passed. The misconception people have about time, as if memories disappear and heals the pain. But the truth is, memories are always there, just pushed back to make more room for new ones. They are blurred from views and hurt it possessed could be momentarily forgotten until something, be it a _phone call_ , brings it all back. Time truly does not heal any wounds, it merely softens the pain, leaving scars to constantly ache.   
  
Nothing kills you like your own mind, forming vapors, suffocating you long after all the thoughts dries out. But Type held fast, painted over those thoughts with new ones. At _least he tried to_.

Type wasn’t the one for social gathering or making small conversation with others. Despite that, he got along well with his colleagues, but they were more of an acquaintance then friends. They respected him and his space, recognized that he was good at his job, were polite to him and vice versa. Maybe, that’s probably why all of them were thrown off guard when Type suddenly became interested in having small talks, mingling at social gathering, and even initiating conversations. Not that they had anything against him, but it was so uncharacteristic of him to be a social butterfly all of a sudden. Yet, none felt like it was their business to ask, so they indulged each other and carried on with their lives.

It helped Type immensely, to have his thoughts constantly pre-occupied. It left no room for unwanted memories, ones that clawed at his chest and cut off his oxygen. But Type _hated_ it. He liked his job; his workmates were kind and helpful, but they weren’t Type’s type of people. Their likes and interests were vastly different, so having to pretend and constantly come up with things to talk to them was taking a toll on him. He’s well aware that he dug his own grave, but it had helped keep past where it belongs. However, pretending to be something he isn’t and keeping that front was something he realized he never wanted to do again.

He does not know how long he can keep this façade. He’s honestly exhausted from trying to be stronger than he feels. Tharn had noticed the change in Type’s personality, his new talkative side and instantly called out on it. One thing Tharn hated as equally as the word breakup was Type pretending to like shit he wasn’t comfortable with. It never ended well.

“Type, why the hell are you talking about anime like it’s the best thing in the world?” Tharn asked incredulously.

“It’s not the best, but I have come to realize it’s not so bad” Type had answered nonchalantly.

“you hated it, calling it stupid and teased me all day when you first saw me watching One Piece. For god sake, you called me a man child whole week” Tharn couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“There is nothing wrong with adult watching cartoons, everyone has their own preferences Tharn”

“What the hell Type, you’re quoting my words back to me now?” Tharn voice had gone an octave higher as of now. It’s not that Tharn has a problem with Type’s sudden interest in animes but the fact Tharn can smell Type’s bullshit miles away. Tharn has, without a doubt, noticed the subtle change in Type, more social and outgoing; joining conversation even when he wasn’t interested in the topic, and Tharn would be all for it, if it weren’t for the pained eyes and fakes smiles that came along with it.

“Why are you yelling? Can’t a man change his mind?”

“Yes, a man can, but I know you”

“I am just trying to have a nice conversation with you and you’re making a big deal out of nothing”

“of course I am, when my boyfriend pretends to like shit he doesn’t”

“What if I do like it?”

“You don’t”

“You don’t know that”

“You wanna bet on that?”

“Fuck off Tharn, I just wanted to talk”

“Then talk, don’t pretend like you’re okay. Talk to me about shit that’s actually bothering you and don’t even say there isn’t because I know you. You can’t heal when you don’t actually treat the wound Type. Right now, you are just pretending not to see it and hoping it will go away.”

Type refuses to acknowledge Tharn’s truth and it had escalated into full blow fight. However, Tharn likes to call them “very heated discussion” because he does not like the idea of fighting with Type. Of course, Tharn being Tharn apologized to his boyfriend right after and Type, feeling equally guilty about yelling back, did the same; So, they made up like they always do, with lots of sex.

As they laid in each other’s arms that night, exhausted from their activities, listening to one another’s heartbeat, Tharn pulled him closer, completely spooning him in his arms. After a while, Tharn spoke. It was but a whisper, but quietness of the room made the words louder than they were and Type had no choice but to hear it.

“Have you thought about maybe…it’s time to talk to someone, maybe a professional….” He left the words hanging in midair but within second Type shut it down, _for the second time_. 

First time they had this conversation was when they moved out of their dorm after graduation and were looking for bigger space to settle into. During their apartment hunting, one of the places they checked out had an attic and Type accidently pushed the door closed, enveloping himself in darkness. The building was old, so door got jammed. In the end, Tharn had kicked the door down and held Type until his body stop trembling enough to leave the place. It had _triggered_ Type’s nightmares back.

For a whole week afterward, Type was volatile, smallest things ticked him off; Tharn was forced to walk on eggshell around him in case he blows off again. When he finally came back to himself, finding the balance Tharn had taught him throughout their years together, he broke down on his boyfriend’s arms and apologized in broken sobs. But there were no promises of it not happening again because they both knew it was only matter of time. They had a conversation about Type getting help for these types of episodes afterward, but Type shut it down instantly, unwanted memories of those white walls and women in pen skirt was something he didn’t want to go through again.

Tharn didn’t force him then and would not now. He would never put Type anywhere he wasn’t comfortable in. Those episodes had gradually disappeared over time until _he_ came back to Type’s life, _their life_.

Silence echoed in their room and after a long while, Tharn was the one who broke it again.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But promise me…promise me you’ll talk to me, tell me, include me. Promise me Type?”

Type didn’t reply, instead snuggled more into Tharn’s chest.

“Please, baby”

“I’ll try Tharn, I’ll try…” His voice was muffled but Tharn heard it perfectly. It wasn’t what he had wanted to hear but for now, it’ll have to do.

Even though Type hadn’t acknowledged what Tharn had said to him, he knew he was right. He was tired, both physically and mentally. Maybe he should talk to someone, a professional as Tharn had advised. But his childhood memories inside those four walls, women clad in pen skirt and white shirt are something he rather not relive. Over and over again, he had to share what passed in that dimly lit room. They said it was meant to help him get it off his chest, to sleep better once the monster is no longer in his head. But it had done no such thing, no matter how many different therapists he had tried, in the end it was the sleeping pills that had took the monster away. He took one every time he went to bed, until one day he woke up and realize the monster no longer had a faced.

His memories became a worn out photograph, with fading edges, permanent but distance dream. He had push it so far back in his mind, he no longer needed a little white pills to chase the nightmares away. After years of dreamless sleep, for the first time in five years, Type had dreamt of something nice. That's how he had lived his life. Until Tharn brought them back, _unknowingly_ , and healed the hole of unwanted love it had left in him.

Then the fear of _Him_ , somewhere out there, breathing in the same fresh air had brought all of it back in full force; a child hiding in the depth his mind, full of fear, suddenly emerged seeking arms of protection but Type wasn't a child anymore, he would protect himself, that's what he thought. Now he feels as if he has _exhausted_ his soul all together.   
  


Work was draining and now that he had been more open to conversing with others, his colleagues were adamant about torturing him with this excess he had unwittily granted them. Whenever they saw him alone, they would instantly join him and strike dialogues. Honestly, at this point he didn’t know which was worse, the unwanted thoughts that refuses to leave him or the unwelcome conversations that requires him to respond and mingle due to his own doing.

It had been a long day and Type was dreaming about the bed at home and maybe looking forward to some cuddles, not that he was a cuddle man, mind you, that was all Tharn but he didn’t mind indulging in it since Tharn was more than willing to give.

Type hang off his white coat and stretched his arms out. Sun was dipping lower in the sky, soon Bangkok would be covered in brilliant colors of settings sun. He locked his office door and gave it a nudge; turned to leave when he heard a voice calling after him.

"Ah, Type, there you are"

"Mr.Chamlong?" Type stop, waiting for his supervisor to catch up to him.

"I been meaning to talk to you all day today; it's been a hectic day" sigh Mr. Chamlong, pushing his hair out of the way.

"We have a new Sport coordinator; Since Mrs. Apsorn is on maternity leave, he'll be taking over her position for time being. I need someone to show him the ropes around here." He explained. "Ah, here comes the man himself"

Type turned toward the direction Mr. Chamlong is waving at. At the end of the hall stood a man, without a doubt is the one Mr.Chamlong is referring to. However, instead of walking toward them, the newcomer stands there for a second, just staring at them and then _smiles_.

Type does not know why but the air suddenly feels cold around him. He does not like that smile, in fact, he feels a strong dislike for the man, and he hasn’t even been properly introduced to him yet. There is something about him though, that rubs Type the wrong way. His social butterfly façade is really making him hate everyone right now. He sighs internally.

The man comes closer and Type sees the wrinkles on his face. Maybe around his late 40s but he was built. If it weren't for the lines of time slipping into his face, Type would have mistaken him for someone younger instead.

"Mr.Jaturapattara, this is Type Thiwat, he'll be looking after you until you get used to things around here" Mr. Chamlong addresses the man and awaits. Type does not want to. _It feels wrong_. Everything about this man feels wrong. Yet he has no choice; he has a job to do, job to _keep_.

"It's nice to meet you Mr.Jaturapattara" Type extends his hand in polite gesture, trying to keep his voice steady. The grip that meets his’s hand reminds Type of an _snake_ , slippery and suffocating.

That night, for the first time, monster has a _face_ in Type's dream.

_The fact is, there a stance that follows everything that's evil, it stinks. you can try to cover yourself up, buy the most expensive perfume or roll yourself in the most fragrant field, but it does not go away. The moment you let the darkness make home of you, moment you embrace it and throw away your humanity, it becomes part of you. Eventually, someone will sniff you out but until then it thrives in shadows._

_The man leans his head back and takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales. Smokes fills up the room as the man conjures the same image on his head over and over again._

_Despite being under the Bangkok’s breeze, sun never left **his** skin. The picture he had received of the boy previously had certainly not done him justice. The sun kissed boy had blossom into most beautiful thing he had ever tasted, and he longs for another **bite**. But he’ll have to be patient, even more than he had originally planned. _

_It hadn’t been easy getting that job, too many strings had to be pulled; and when there are too many strings, few are bound to get loose. Someone will eventually pull on it, unraveling the thread. **Unraveling him**. _

_He had a whole plan; it had been perfect before he found out there was **another** in this equation. To think someone else had a taste of **him** made his blood boil. Sharing had never been a problem before, but this one was **special**. He wanted him all to himself, but those cold walls had kept him away too long. _

_The man turns his gaze on the scatter photographs next to him on the bed. Pretty face, milky skin, broad shoulders, definitely packs a punch but nothing he couldn’t handle but money was written all over his face. Rich had too many connections and too hard to keep them quiet. But he needs him out of his way all the same._

_One way or another, he’ll have his taste._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's been forever since i last updated but fear not, i am not abandoning it. I just have a lot on my plate, so updates will be slow. 
> 
> Please let me know if you see any mistakes. I hope everyone is staying safe during these tough times. If you like it, don't forget to leave kudos and i would, as always, would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. 
> 
> Keep supporting our beautiful boys and stay safe na.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh I love TharnType too much. They have officially ruined other BL drama for me 😩😩. I have seen it so many times that it’s unhealthy. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy. I love it when Tharn become protective about Type😌😌 
> 
> Don’t forget to support our adorable boys - MewGulf all the way ❣️❣️


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